A Lost Lord
by Phosph0r
Summary: We follow a black hand, a reborn Lord of Cinder, and the Dancer as they explore the world of Lothric.
1. Prologue

Prolog:

It was a quiet night, before this all started. I was relaxing in bed on the edge of sleep. Rain gently puttered down the sides of the room I lay in, making a peculiar sound on the glass that I knew was somewhere to the left. The cool metal of my mask pressed against my face, and my empty eye sockets. My staff was propped up against the opposite wall. I could feel the people walking outside, and underneath, and in the adjoining room. Magical energy, the souls of the hundreds of people around me. I rolled over, preparing to end the long day...

What was that? It had sounded like a scream... There was a terrible energy field, outside the house. So many people...They were coming inside. I heard Maria, the housekeeper, screech. Lots of footsteps... I tried to peer through the darkness, to see what was going on, but it was useless. Even in there wasn't a low golden crown in the way, I wouldn't have been able to see. The Shrine had seen to that. I heard stomping outside. I suddenly realized that they might be coming for me, and I lurched out of bed. My robes dragged across the floor, trying to get to-

BANG. The door smashed open. I could hear the breathing of the people, and the amount of energy they all gave off... It shone like a spotlight in my sightless eye sockets. I was dazzled, confused, and tired. I couldn't even make one step towards my staff before a rough hand seized me around the wrist. Two more followed suit on my other side. I struggled, but I couldn't have matched them for strength, not even had I been fully awake. I was hauled, my fingers flailing uselessly for the staff, the one thing in the room that would let me grind my attackers to dust without a second thought. They dragged my from my room, the cold air biting my skin. The fire in the room, while invisible, was warm. I started shivering.

A voice. Rough, like sandpaper, but sneering. "What's wrong, lil lady? Sceered?"

"..no."

"Liar."  
I was hauled down the stairs, bare feet dragging on the rough wooden floor. As my captors passed through the room downstairs, I smelled something burning, metallic. ...oh no.

I was thrown roughly out into the street, robes now soaking wet from the ground. I felt the drizzle of rain on my head, and down my cheeks.

"What do you WANT?!"

My voice spiraled up into a screech at the end. I was livid, and scared. The man just laughed. A pair of hands seized me around the middle, and tossed me, as if I was nothing but a bale of summer hay, onto a cart. I could tell it was a cart, because it was currently moving at top speed down the road. More hands. These were softer, but not by that much. They tied something around my wrists, binding them behind my back. I struggled, but the grip was surprisingly firm. Then, a voice in my ear.  
"...I'm sorry."

I recoiled. The voice was familiar.

The cart bumped along the road, coming to a halt in front of a massive, pulsating source of energy. I was dragged out of the cart, my face hitting a dirt path, soggy with rain. I was yanked to my feet, and pulled forward, to face the source. I heard the crackle of flames. Rain had soaked underneath my mask by now, mixing with the tears flowing from where my eyes should be.

My captors stopped. I was tied unwillingly to something that felt like wood. I strained. There was something incredibly hot in front of me. I felt a hand brush my cheek, before taking the mask from my head. My face was bombarded with heat, all the energy of the apparent flames leaning toward me.  
"...Goodbye, Lady Elaine."

The frame was pushed forward. I felt my robes ignite, and I screamed. I was pushing against the burning wooden frame, trying desperately to escape but to no avail.

"...may you serve us well as a Lady of Cinder."  
I lapsed into unconsciousness, my flesh burning.


	2. Chapter 1: Ashes

Chapter one: Risen Ashes

Hehehehehe. You should try guessing who the narrator in this chapter is. Miles of backstory to be had here.

* * *

The hollows came as quickly as rain, one after another, all to their deaths. I whirled through their ranks, robe billowing, hacking them apart with my scimitar. A faint green glow pulsed around it, building it's attack until they were all gone. I pulled my sword out of the last one, leaving it to topple to the ground. I pressed on, coming to a door. Pushing it open, feeling the timbers groan under the palms of my hands, I could see gray stone on the other side.I stepped inside, looking around. The place looked like a tomb, gray stone bricks lining the walls, a musty, old smell pervading the area. Inches of dust coated the ground. A low chest was up against one wall. I stepped forward, unchallenged. I prodded the chest uncertainly with my sword. It didn't respond. I flung it open. A flood of dust spewed forth. I felt myself wheeze. Dust isn't too good for lungs. I plunged my hand into the blackness, and grabbed the item in the chest.

It was made of a cool metal. I pulled it out, wiping dust from the surface. The bell gleamed a golden color, and some sort of green stone was inlaid in spiraling patterns. I plunged it into my pocket. I would clean it up once I got back to Firelink. Spinning round, cloak flaring, I exited, slamming the door. A short while later, I was back at the fire. I held my hand out, feeling the world around me dissolve into ash.

I materialized in a cloud of ash at the center of Firelink Shrine. I greeted the Firekeeper, dispelling my sword.

"Have you seen the Unkindled, any of them?"  
She nodded.  
"One of them left for the High Wall, not hours ago. ...You may want to hurry, if you're to catch him."  
I turned and ran, as she sat back on her stone bench.

* * *

A clashing, screaming sound of metal. Sparks flew, struck from their place by stone. Two figures whirled and crashed together, creating the fearful noise. Bands of fire, and some, dark purple substance rippled through the air, following the dancing path of twin scimitars. The Dancer waltzed across the room, swinging her swords in a mesmerizing pattern. The other, smaller figure, clad in black armor, ducked and rolled under all of her blows, occasionally cutting deep into her armor, which bled, scattering droplets across the floor. She flinched as a particularly deep cut wound it's way across her thigh. They fought, one never seeming to gain an advantage. SHe was wearing down, though, her attacks losing speed, the frequency she was hurt increasing. Her hand darted out, snatching the figure, the other hand raising her fiery sword, going to drive it into her attacker's skull. They descended, smashing into-

"STOP!"  
The voice echoed around the hall, coming from the open door. The Dancer froze, listening. It had sounded familiar. A figure in a gray cloak over tough leather armor stepped into the room. His hat hung low over his face. He held a blazing green scimitar. The fighter struggled, dropping from the Dancer's grip. SHe was still looking at the figure in gray, but immediately began to raise her sword to finish the fighter. Another cry.  
"Think about who you are!"  
She didn't hear, that time. She began the downward plunge of the sword, when a bell sounded. It wasn't loud, but it filled the whole room. Twin clatters echoed across the hall, fiery and darks swords both falling to the floor. The Dancer was staring at the bell. I held it aloft. It gleamed, the clapper still swinging, throwing golden light across the room. Her armored hands began shaking, softly. I slowly approached, putting the bell away. She backed away, but slower than I was approaching. I reached out a hand. She had both hers close to her chest, but slowly one crept towards my own. Then she darted away again. I slowly approached her again.  
"...Hello."  
She was still skittish, staying away from my hand, sometimes aggressive, but the bell helped her approach, even if it did nothing to help her fear. Eventually, my hand made contact. She growled, but did not retreat. I let my fingers slowly creep up toward her palm, and towards her index finger. Her feet skittered away nervously, but I kept a tight grip on her hand, and she calmed a bit. My fingers reached the base of her index finger, and I held her gaze. She growled. I squeezed the finger. She skittered, her feet moving away. I held her gaze, and pulled a little at the ring which was half rusted to the armor. She flinched, and her right hand drifted toward her left, which was pulled closer. I kept my grip, though. The black, glassy stone was cool against the palm of my hand. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my temple. Another tug. She was antsy, panicky. She once again started to pull away, but my grip on the ring and her hand forced her to stay still. She pulled in different directions, slowly moving in a semicircle. The ring had slid down her finger slowly. The place where it had been was rusted and bleeding. She tugged, trying to get away without taking the ring, eying the swords which were lying across the field. I stopped for a moment, and put a hand on her shoulder. She made a low whine.

I once again tugged the ring. It scraped across the metal of her finger, not wanting to giver her up. Her feet tried to slip away, but she was caught. Her other hand twitched. She badly wanted to knock me away, I could tell. But she didn't. She allowed the ring to get to the tip of her finger, and yanked her hand back, throwing me on the ground.

Her metal, and the flesh underneath, were bleeding where I had taken the ring, and in multiple places where the Unkindled had cut her. She was avoiding me now, backing away across the chapel, holding her left hand. I had the ring itself cupped in my palm. The black stone swirled, before I put it in my pocket. It would take a bit for the ring's effect to ware off. I would heal her then. She had retrieved her swords now, and had started back toward me. She swung, and I rolled away, but she paused. She tried again, this time not even actually coming near me. She dropped it, confused. Evidently something was wrong, because she curled up in a ball. I cautiously tiptoed over, and laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, and made a growling noise, but didn't do anything about it. Her left hand came out of its hiding place, and with the sharp metal point on the armor of her fingertip, she scoured something in the floor.

 _w_ _Hy_ _ **i**_ _t_ _g_ _o_ _ **n**_ _e?  
_ I did a double take. She had already recovered some language. Or perhaps she had already had it.

"Why is what gone? The ring?"  
My voice was calm, reassuring. Or at least I hoped it was. She shook her head.

 _Th_ _e_ _ **f**_ _ee_ _lIn_ _g_

I didn't know what she was talking about, so I shrugged.

"...It probably had something to do with your ring."  
I didn't know what else to say, either, so I was quiet after that. I slowly took the bell and put it on the ground in front of her. The veil that she had had as long as I had know her was still draped over her back, though it was tattered from years of work it was not designed for. I squeezed her shoulder. She remained curled up, gangly arms and legs wrapped around her. She appeared almost like a cat taking a nap. A very _large_ cat. I sat beside her.

She eventually took the bell, and put it into some compartment that I couldn't see. I heard a sniff from inside the helmet. A tiny stream of water was running out of the joint between her neck and her head. I patted her shoulder, and she wrapped her hand around my arm. There was a rasping from inside the helmet, before a voice that hadn't been used in years issued forth.  
"...why...you...back?"  
This was followed by a coughing fit, which shook her body. I squeezed her hand, and she squeezed my arm. I waited for it to end before answering.

"...Someone told me you were in trouble."

"...thought...you...dead."  
Again, I waited for the coughing to stop before replying.

"...I didn't know you were alive, either. And first, I had to get your chime. You'd have killed them, otherwise."

She was silent, and leaned against me. I almost fell over, but I didn't. I pet her side, my fingers

"...can you feel? Through the metal?"  
She nodded. I shuddered a little, thought I tried not to let her see. What had the ring done to her? There was still gentle crying from inside the mask. I was still holding her hand. She rasped for a moment, trying to find words.  
"...they...they...killed him...they killed Vordt..."

There was coughing, intermixed with hiccups this time. The flow of tears had increased. They shimmered, shifting colors like her tattered veil and cloak. I didn't know what to say. Her brother had been one of the only things keeping her sane for the past years. The first thing I felt was a sense of overpowering anger. Vordt had been my next most important charge, after her.

"...I should have let you kill them."

She was sobbing now. She hadn't heard me. I squeezed her shoulder, realizing that she probably was feeling the same thing. The next emotion was overwhelming guilt. I hadn't been there for the pair, and he had paid the price. I had failed them.

...I couldn't show it, though. She needed me now.  
"...I'm sorry...I didn't know."  
She pressed very close. This was probably the first human contact she had had in years now, not counting the Pontiff. I was half convinced he wasn't human, anyway. He had turned her into what she was now, and didn't let her speak, if she was even able to when she had had the ring on. He loved the sound of his own wagging tongue. She relished the contact, feeling like a real person again, even if the circumstances were miserable ones. I was leaning up against her thigh, the heat she gave off from inside more than offsetting the chill in the air produced by her armor, and the surrounding weather. I gently ran my hand across the metal surface, over the cuts and rents in the armor. The blood had started to clot, but her body couldn't repair metal.

"...If you'd let me have the chime for a while, I could heal you."  
She reached inside the liner of her cloak and drew it out. The cloak was terribly ill fitted, probably because it was never designed to account for enormous changes in proportion and height. I took the old bell, and rang it, reciting a tale under my breath. The golden light of the miracle spread, surrounding us both, healing the wounds in her skin without a mark. She sighed.

In a few minutes, I could feel the rumbling sound of her sleeping. She deserved it, too. I recon she hadn't had any in awhile.

"...Goodnight, Emily."


	3. Chapter 2: The Sixth Throne

...Darkness. It was dark, and cold, and meaningless. That is the only way I know how to describe what came after the fire. I had only the barest shimmer of light inside me, and it took a very, very long time to notice. It was nearly nonexistent, a far cry from the blazing glow that had filled my soul before. The others each had a similar spark, and this was my only way to see them. It was cold, and pitch black. All of them were just as blind as I was, and most did not see what I could. We could not move, or speak. It felt like an eternity. It was an eternity.

I did not know why I was still around. My purpose was up. I wished to sleep in peace, rid myself of the anger that had wormed it's way into me, and spread throughout my soul like a disease.

Why was I not dead?

I had been incinerated, my soul sacrificed to feed the fire.

These thoughts whirled through my mind, as I floated in the dark.

I stepped from the ashes, feeling the warmth seeping into my armor in my left hand. The other hand clasped inside it seemed tiny by comparison, puny, delicate. Nevertheless, it was mine that shook. I had not left my post since I was exiled there. Even now, some part of me wished to return, end this nightmare that was a dream. Things were simpler. Since he had arrived...my mind was coming back. Slowly. I..I don't think I want it back. But it's still coming. All the thoughts... Everything was simpler... and I still don't have everything back yet...Just enough to notice the hole in my mind. Gahhh...I don't want to know...I don't want to...but it's coming back...no, stop. Stop thinking. I can't..

...ok, just concentrate on what's around you. Stone. I am in the bottom of an upside down bowl, and there is fire in the middle. He is here, hand folded inside mine. I give it a squeeze. He flinches. I've hurt him. Oh no.

"...you...alright...?"

He nods. I look around the bowl. There are five big chairs at one end, and lots of little holes in the walls. There is a girl standing on the stairs leading to a big hole. She has white hair, braided in a long line down her back. I looked away. The environment was quiet, calming. I just had to stop thinking about what had happened.

Everything was going to be fine, I didn't need to worry. Except- GAH! Thoughts filled my head once more. I needed it to stop, for the fog to swallow me again. I didn't want the intelligence and individuality that was being crammed into my mind by the second. It was painful. It made me question things I had known to be true. I didn't want to question. I hadn't questioned in years, I had been oblivious, happy to do anything. ...go away.

I made a small noise, staring at my protector's pocket. The ring could make it all go away, make the clouds cover my mind again until the was nothing left. It could make me disappear. I could stop questioning my honor, stop questioning the Pontiff. Everything would be right. I took a step forward, my other hand drifting to his pocket. Gentle fingers eased inside, and grabbed the ring, I withdrew my hand, sliding the ring-

-his other hand whipped around, grabbing my wrist. He squeezed, hard, prying my hand open. He took the ring off the tip of my finger.

"...I can't let you do that."

He put the ring back in his pocket, and I yanked my hand away. He resumed his conversation with the girl. When had that started? I hadn't been paying attention, and I couldn't make any sense of what they were talking about.

I stared at the back of his head, glaring underneath my helmet. I'd have to be more careful next time. He meant well, but he didn't understand. He couldn't.

...at least I wasn't changing physically. I hoped that didn't ever happen. I liked the changes from my original form. I was stronger, for one.The Pontiff had taught me to swing a sword, but before I transformed I could barely lift one. The two I had now would have ripped my arms off if I tried to use them. My skin was tough. My armor had become part of me, nerves and skin spreading up through the metal plates until the rift between my flesh and the metal couldn't be seen. My face had been excluded from this treatment, I thought. My helmet had long since fused with my neck, so I couldn't look, but I could guess that my helmet was too far away, and of too dissimilar shape for it to bond.

I once tried to take the helmet off, to get a better look at myself. It was in the early days, when I resented the change. I undid the clasps, only to find the metal stuck. I didn't know what was happening, as the nerves hadn't spread into the surface yet, and I didn't have the sense of touch. The silken padding on the inside of the metal had gone, and my helmet yanked on my skin when I tried to remove it. I tried for hours, and it kept getting increasingly painful. I didn't dare try to open it with a knife, as I would have been clumsy enough to accidentally stab myself in the throat.

...I cried for the last time, that day. After that, the clouds descended, and I was at peace. I came to love the form I had taken, and though I didn't know what was happening most of the time, I knew it was good.

...The nightmares were the only bad thing that troubled me, and they were easily forgotten. It was easy to let go of the images of me in a murderous frenzy, standing over a schoolroom full if children. I was not like that. I spent my days in laziness, in towns of people that adored me. Why does that image trouble me so much, now? I shouldn't be afraid. I know who I am. I wouldn't do something like that...right?

I felt a pull in my gut. It had been ages since I last felt anything, so I instantly was alert. I looked around, scanning the blackness. Or was it blackness? I couldn't see the others anymore. They were all gone, just me, floating in the...gray? I couldn't see, but all the space around me vibrated with the tiniest fraction of energy. I felt warmth. It wasn't on my face, because I didn't have a face. Instead, it was concentrated in my husk of a soul. I felt...sparks? I looked down. My soul was visible again, not...dead? My surroundings were bright now, magic was pouring from seemingly nowhere, filling the space. I couldn't turn it off. I have no eyes to shut, but it wasn't even real light. It was a beam of magical energy that blinded my sightless eyes. I felt the new warmth in my soul grow, ignite. It was a good feeling, a little overwhelming since I hadn't felt anything in a long time. All of a sudden- it stopped. My soul was a raging inferno, just as it had been during life. I would have been smiling, had I a face. The magical brightness was gone, replaced with...still the blackness of blindness, but something else, too. I cast my vision left and right, and was infinitely surprised to see three souls, almost directly above me. I made a little sound, then gasped. I had made noise. I was searching for some cause for this odd chain of events, trying to figure out why there were Souls above me, and I had made sound. There was no noise in death. I shivered. It was...cold? All at once, I felt a cold stone floor, and a slight breeze made my..it made my hair tickle my shoulders? I had shoulders. The souls moved, distracting me. I felt hands on my shoulders, my stomach, and being lifted up. I opened my mouth, but the very act of having a mouth stunned me into silence. I felt someone's shoulder digging into my torso, and knew I was being carried. Someone shook my head, and all at once, I realized I could hear them. It was a male voice, and I could hear it saying that someone should shut up, she's probably confused and shocked. Who were they talking about? I didn't know. I heard the voices cut off at once, and I was gently set down on something soft and springy. It was cold, and the breeze washing over every part of my body didn't help. I heard a door open and close. I experimentally thought about raising my arm. Nothing happened. I didn't try again.

The door opened again, and shut quickly. I heard bare feet on carpet.

"...what's your name?"

The new, feminine voice came from the odd, lightless soul. A Fire Keeper.

My name? I barely remembered what it was, much less how to say it. I opened my mouth, trying to form the words. All that came out was meaningless jabber.

"Alright. Perhaps later."

I felt soft hands slide something that was smooth and silky up my legs and torso,and under my arms. I felt blood rush to my cheeks. She lifted my body partway off the bed, sliding the thing up my back. Pressure on my shoulders, as..buttons were done? I was surprised I knew what that felt like.

I heard her move away, followed by a click as a window was shut. I heard a whoosh, and crackling. Warmth began to fill the room. The fabric felt odd on my legs, and my stomach. It was odd to be able to feel anything that wasn't me. The spongy surface I was on drew my attention. I wanted to move. I needed to feel more if everything. I succeeded in moving my arm a little. The spongy...bed? Had soft fabric all over it. I moved it again. And again. It dragged over the skin of my arm, sending signals to my brain. It felt soft. I tried to ask a question, but my tongue wasn't obeying properly. It sounded something like... "arewayou, hmmphmm?"

I tried again, just going for one word.

"...a...lll..ive...?"

It was a rhetorical question, I didn't need an answer. The warmth of the fire, the sound of my voice, the sensations of being carried earlier..they were answer enough.

"...yes, you're alive. I'll see about getting you better clothes, and something for your..em..eyes."

I heard her leave. I wanted to jump up, to open the window, feel the cold breeze on my face. Or hands, pressing on my shoulders. I wanted to feel something again. Anything. I was alive. ALIVE! I could barely stand laying here like this, I wanted to jump up, and run, and dance. This..this was going to be good.


End file.
